


The Winchester Name

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Gen, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester to the Rescue, Tied-Up Castiel (Supernatural), Tied-Up Dean Winchester, threat of drowning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 17:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19255699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Dean and Cas are taken prisoner, their captors make it very clear they want something and there will be a price to pay if they don’t get it.Dean makes it very clear if they lay another hand on Cas, theymightjust live long enough to regret it.





	The Winchester Name

“Dammit!” Dean snarled as his lockpick snapped in two, pinging out of the tiny opening in his cuffs and flipping end over end before it vanished somewhere else in the room.

“Are you hurt?” Cas was sat forward, pulling on his own restraints as much as he could in an attempt to reach Dean, but it was futile.

They’d been caught by professionals, and Dean knew they’d need help to get out of this one.

He saw blood trickling from beneath Cas’s restraints. 

“No, just...sit back okay? Sam knows where we are; he’ll think of something.”

All the same, Dean hoped it was soon. He didn’t know what the guys who’d taken them wanted, but they looked mean enough to get it; Dean was really hoping his little brother launched an amazing and successful rescue before they got to find out.

But fate seldom smiled upon the Winchester family; the thought had barely formed in Dean’s head before the door to the room swung open and their captors returned.

“Let’s get down to business,” the leader, a tall bulky guy, said. “You have it, we want it; if you give it up, then nothing bad needs to happen here.”

Dean stared at him, confused. “What the fuck is _it_?”

He saw the slap coming a second before it landed, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Dean!” Cas was back to trying to get free, but he was locked into shackles, heavy, iron, and (Dean had seen) inscribed with potent magic to keep an angel helpless.

Dean gave him a look that promised he was okay, and then glared at the man who’d hit him.

“I still don’t know what _it_ is,” he said. “If you’re trying to beat the answer into me, you don’t know how this shit is supposed to work.”

For a moment, he thought he’d get slapped again, but the man studied him thoughtfully.

“You’re tough as I heard,” he said. “But I heard other things about you too, like where the chink in your armour is.”

He glanced at the men behind him, then jerked his head towards Cas. “Hood him.”

“Wait, what?”

Dean pulled at his cuffs as hard as he dared, but it was no use; he had to watch as two of them pinned Cas’s shoulders to the chair, halting his struggles, while another tugged a thick black hood over Cas’s head and sealed it by knotting a cord around his neck.

“Get that the fuck off him!”

The leader was watching Cas, panting through the hood, fists clenched where they were shackled to the arms of the chair.

“He doesn’t like that, does he? And neither do you.”

“Cas!” Dean ignored the boss, and yelled at his angel. “Cas, it’s okay, I’m here.”

The leader chuckled at him. “How is it okay, Dean? I could gut him and all you’d be able to do is scream. But it’s okay; I have something else in mind.”

One of the other men came forward, then, carrying a bucket; water sloshed over the sides, and then another man helped him lift the bucket up above Cas’s head.

“With those shackles on, he’s kind of less than an angel, right now,” the leader said. “So what do you think will happen if we drench that hood?”

Dean stared at them in open horror, too shaken to even try and scoff.

“Don’t.”

“Then hand it over.”

“I don’t know what _it_ fucking is!”

The leader sighed. He looked at Cas, at his men, at the bucket.

“Drown him.”

“Wait!” Dean wrenched himself forward, so hard he stripped skin from his wrists. “Just fucking wait, okay?”

The leader raised his hand, stopped the men from tipping the water over   
Cas’s head. “Don’t toy with me, Dean.”

Dean glared up at him. “Toy with you? Toy with you, you piece of shit? If you hurt him, if you scare him, if you do anything to that angel, me and my brother will find you. Doesn’t matter where you go, we will track you down and we’ll make you regret the day you ever heard our names.”

There was some uneasy laughter, and a few worried looks. Yeah, their name had weight, and Dean wasn’t above exploiting that if it kept Cas safe.

“You’re presuming we’ll let you live, after,” the leader said.

Something caught Dean’s eye, then; he saw Cas’s hand jerking, but he wasn’t trying to get loose. His fingers were flicking subtly into three repeated shapes, over, over, over.

Dean grinned. “You’re presuming you’ll make it to _after_ ,” he said.

Before the man could reply a single shot rang out, and he went down like a suddenly empty vessel.

Sam strode into the room, training his gun on the people who’d taken his family prisoner.

“You two okay?”

Dean sagged back, and jerked his head to Cas. “Get him the hell out of that.”


End file.
